


Breakthrough

by Nature_Nymph



Category: Berserk
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nature_Nymph/pseuds/Nature_Nymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Guts had been able to save Casca in time before her fateful last words to him during the Eclipse? Inspired by the movie "Descent."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cleansing](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/24234) by jm1681. 



_Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!_

Specks of blood and flesh dotted Guts’ face as he continued to hack away at his arm with the broken blade. Was there any pain? There probably was, but Guts didn’t give a damn about anything, not his lost arm that was being devoured by this beast, nor the sound of the metal clinking against his bone. All he could pay attention to was Casca and that thing that had her, that was touching her.

"Please… stop…"

Each time he heard her whimper in his clutches, Guts become much more infuriated, more determined.

_COME OFF ALREADY!_

He turned around to see him, positioning himself over Casca. Guts stopped chopping at this point and began to pull forward.

_COME OFF!!_

Casca’s weak voiced tremored like a quake through Guts’ ears as she cried when the demon penetrated her. All Guts could feel was fury now.

**_COME… OFF!!!_ **

A trail of snapped tendons, flaked skin, and chipped bone was all that remained of Guts’ left arm as the demon devoured the rest. He flew toward the caped devil with a speed that was demonic in itself, managing to avoid all of the talons and claws that tried to grab and stop him. The closer he got to them, the redder his vision became, seeing his piercing blue eyes staring into him as he continued his violation of Casca. He jumped as he closed in on his target, the thing that was once his friend.

**_"GRIFFITH!!!"_ **

That leap of faith halted as he suspended in midair, Guts’ broken sword inches away from his head. Guts could feel it, how the force of the invisible barrier was repelling his body. Guts’ jaws clenched in rage as he stared straight into his eyes, his gaze unyielding as he continued to thrust into his lover, smirking the entire time.

_No._

The taunts and jeers from the nearby demons withstanding, Guts’ hand trembled, trying to push forward. Guts felt his bones shift against the resistance, threatening to fragment in his flesh.

_NO._

When he saw the blade fidget against his barrier by a mere centimeter, Femto stopped his transgression against Casca, allowing her to gasp for much needed air, albeit he was still inside of her. He focused on Guts, exerting all of his new found power toward putting this flea in his place. Narrowing his will against Guts’, Femto clenched, and by doing so, dug his sharp claws into Casca’s flesh, causing her to moan in pain. Hearing her voice coming from beneath him, so close, Guts flared.

_…NO!_

For the first time in what seemed like a millennium, the hell space was dead silent. The demons stopped their cawing and their cackling and the arch devils above ceased in their machinations. All stood in awe as the mortal man wedged his blade into their new master’s helmet, breaking his hold on Guts and the demon that held Casca. Blood spurted from the wound as Femto faltered back, but regained his demonic grace as he glided meters away from Guts. It was nowhere near to being a mortal wound, but how could he have…?

Meanwhile, Casca fell limp and weak into Guts’ lap as he crouched on the ground to catch her. Fierce-looking as he was in the moment, he looked down at Casca, his face crossed with concern, failure even. She was naked, cut, and hurt, secreting blood, sweat, and other fluids. Still, though her body trembled from trauma, Casca glanced up at him, tears that were mixed with pain, sorrow, defeat, and oddly peace, staining her cheek. She tried to whimper his name between her bruised lips, but her voice fell flat as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Guts mourned her only for a moment, tears spilling from his bloodshot eyes. But his rage was reborn anew as he looked up at the hoard of demons, now growling and seething with malice toward the mortal who disrupted their entertainment and defaced their master. Guts could have cared less about them, as he was fixed on the black clad demon, his head wound rapidly healing at that instant. He didn’t even need to see the look on Femto’s face: Guts could feel the anger that the demon was feeling. In that moment, Guts almost laughed, grinning a fiendish grin as the demonic façade worn by this figure was faltering under his anger. Those eyes were definitely Griffith’s, the ice in them piercing liking a thousand tiny needles. He reserved that look only for those who stood in his way, who dared to defy his authority and power.

Despite his inner fury, never letting it take complete control of his godlike decorum, Femto was met by something that he was unaccustomed to during his life as a human. He bore into Guts, now looking more brutish and wolfish than ever, almost like a demonic hellhound as he clenched the jagged blade in his remaining hand and his mate against his breast and severed arm. It wasn’t the promise of a challenge on that dogs face, but the promise of death. A vow that he would find a way in all of his power to cast vengeance on him, for killing his friends, hurting Casca, and betraying their companionship.

Femto felt something that a being of his caliber shouldn’t have: apprehension. It was unlikely that Guts would live up to his promise in his position and state - the apostles were already closing in around he and Casca. But as he walked toward the pair, claws outreached to end their pathetic lives once and for all, something held him back, a resistance from the back of his mind.

_Don’t…_

The demon lord hesitated at the voice. The sound of its weakness disgusted him, it was so human-like. What infuriated him more was that it was too familiar of the mortal past that he cast aside for this new ambition. Femto would not submit to the voice’s plea.

But at that moment, the caged sky ripped opened in a flash of light. Both Guts and Femto looked up to see the flash aimed at the one called Void, countering his attack. The flash revealed itself to be that skeletal horseman that showed himself to Guts over a year ago. He and his phantom horse landed between the injured warrior and the demon lord, looking over to Guts.

"Come with me if you want to live."

The bloodlust in Guts continued to boil in him, wanting to face Femto with every fiber that was left in his being; he thought better when he heard Casca moan in her stupor. Taking no time to pause, Guts dropped the blade and scooped Casca in what remained of his arm, hauling her onto the back of the steed. He heaved himself up after, bringing Casca’s body to rest against his in security.

As the Skull Knight prepared his horse to leap through the rip, Guts turned to give Femto - Griffith - one final hellish stare, a warning for the future.

 _This… is… a declaration of_ war.

Composed in his glamor once again, the smirk found its way on Femto’s lips again, answering Guts’ challenge.

_Try._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really liked the new hope spot that they added in the movie. We knew what was going to happen in the end (and it actually answered a scenario fallacy that one would ask if Guts were actually able to reach Femto and Casca), but it was so suspenseful, and Guts' attempt actually made the God Hand - including FEMTO - scared. THAT'S doing something.


	2. Chapter 2

Rickert could barely see him, the Skull Knight entity emerging from the static tornado, as he hid behind the boulder. This time, the skeletal horseman was accompanied by two figures. To his great relief, he saw Guts seated behind the Skull Knight, with Casca cradled in his arms. That relief was short-lived as the group came closer and closer into vision, knowing that something went horrifically wrong wherever the rest of the Hawks were. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of Guts and Casca, bloody and unclothed.

"Guts! Casca!" He came out of hiding, forgetting about Zodd the Immortal who was recuperating from his battle against the Skull Knight as he rushed toward his fellow Hawks. "What happened?!"

Guts dragged he and Casca off of the horse's back, trying his best to carry her in what was left of his arm, he himself growing exhausted from the shock of his wounds.

"Hurry, Rickert!" Guts gritted through his teeth, gently laying Casca on the ground. "Help Casca!"

"But... Guts," Rickert said, gaping with horror at Guts' left arm, or what remained of it rather. The jagged stub dripped profusely with blackened and thick blood, bits of skin dangling by just sinews. Rickert shuddered most at the bone that was still exposed to the elements, bright and red with flecks of dirt and debris sticking to it. This wasn't good at all.

"Forget about me, dammit!" Guts shouted at Rickert, the pain of his massive wound only now reaching his nerves. "See about Casca! She's - " before he could finish, Guts stumbled on his own words as his eyes rolled back, his body collapsing on the ground.

"Guts!" cried Rickert as he saw Guts fall face first on the ground, unconscious from blood loss no doubt. He had to tend to Casca first on Guts' orders, so as soon as he was done wrapping her bare body in a blanket, he stumbled over to Guts, turning him over on his back. He was unsure of what to do with a wound of this magnitude, until he remembered the powder that was given to him by those performers.

"Oh right! The medicine!" He fumbled around his bag, pulling the satchel filled with the green, glimmering powder out. He applied it on Casca's wounds first, carefully and modestly applying it to the cuts around her body before re-wrapping her in the blanket, and then moved onto Guts. Rickert grimaced at what he had to mend, but the Skull Knight advised, "We have no time. Hurry up and treat him."

Just then, a dark shadow emerged overhead, engulfing everybody present. Rickert turned to look, seeing that Zodd had risen once again, in top physical form after reattaching his arm.

"Did you really think that a severed arm would end our fight?" the beast warrior taunted. Young Rickert was all but lost for words at the return of Zodd. The Skull Knight, on the other hand, calmly turned and said, "Truly no. But other events needed to be seen to... Shall we call this a draw?"

"What?" Zodd said, spite in his voice from hearing such an insult on his honor. But then his eyes roamed to the cause of his rivals delay: that swordsman who fought under the White Hawk, the one chosen by the crimson behelit. He was lying before him, covered in blood from a battle, as a warrior should.

"That man!" Zodd exclaimed, "He was in the ceremony, I'm sure of it! And yet, he survived!" His voice suddenly became jovial as he began to laugh. "Splendid! Well done! You are a fine opponent!!" Zodd congratulated the Skull Knight, forgiving him for interrupting their duel in order to save this man.

"This man has his luck to thank, if you can call it that." For a moment, Zodd had a look of pity on his face, for the fallen warrior and his woman. "No... It is bad luck indeed... A cruel fate surely awaits him. But enough of this. You must go!" he said to the Skull Knight. "We shall finish our match some other time, I'm sure of it. Go quickly - now! If the gate is sealed before you leave, you will be lost forever!"

Baffled by the frightening beast's sense of duty and honor, Rickert gapped his mouth open in confusion, but before he could speak, the Skull Knight quickly collected all three people and gathered them on his horse, ready to move out from this demonic maelstrom.

"Wait! Wait!" shouted Rickert. "What about everybody else!?"

Skull Knight turned his head slowly toward the young lad, his voice unmoving as he spoke.

"Everyone in that place is gone."

And before Rickert could ask anything further, to make sure he had heard right, they were already moving, leaving the immortal Zodd in the distance as he spoke of dark things to come for the one now called the Branded Swordsman.

*****

He awoke from a most unusual dream. It was, in fact, a nightmare, but strange in that it did not seem nightmarish at all.

Guts remembered himself standing in a void all alone before the clattering of hooves and metal came to his ears. There he saw everybody: Pippin, Corkus, Judeau, Gaston... But none of them saw him. He ran along side the Hawks, who were marching toward a battle unknown, but they didn't stop for him, no matter how much he cried out for them to stop. Soon, they were just a dot in the distance, into the void.

_PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!!_

Now he was hearing the sound water, bouncing off of walls. The milieau was cool and damp, rather relaxing. Guts opened his eyes to see this unfamiliar place. He craned his neck around, which was stiff and achy, to peer around the cave-like dwelling. Then, he heard the soft pitter-patter of small feet coming down some steps.

"Who's there...?" Guts groaned, as the steps approached him. He heard a voice belonging to a young girl.

"Guts! You're awake!"

It was Erica, bringing Guts a basket full of fresh gauze. She came too quickly, though, skidding on the slippery rocks and falling on her behind. As she cried from her fall, Guts thought, knowing that if Erica was here, her father, the blacksmith Godo, must have been around as well.

"Oh! Erica!" another voice said, "You know how slippery these floors get! You should really be more careful!"

"Rickert..?" Guts groaned again.

At hearing his voice, Rickert rushed over to his friend, tears whelming in his eyes. "Guts! You're awake!" He rejoiced, wiping away freshly fallen tears. "I was afraid that you weren't going to make it... You've been asleep for four days."

Haziness flooded Guts' mind, his head still aching. "Where... are we?"

"It's a cave dug out by my father, Godo," Erica filled in. "A mine." Guts suddenly remembered Godo telling him about a mine with rare ore that he used, months ago when he stayed with the small, secluded family.

"When you guys came all injured and bloody," Erica continued, "Dad was freaked! But luckily, he recognized you, Guts."

Guts didn't bother to interject between Rickert and Erica, as his head was still trying to wrap around this blur of events.

"Some weird knight brought us here... He was kinda scary looking, but I could sense that he was well-meaning - his voice was soothing even. But Guts: what happened? What was that strange tornado? What happened to everybody? ... Where is Griffith?"

Guts could feel his thoughts gathering at Rickert's words, putting the pieces together. A knight... A tornado... Everybody...

In an instant, everything came flooding back to Guts as he shot up from his bed, startling Rickert and Erica: Griffith, the vortex, demons, the Hawks, Cas -

Guts grabbed Rickert's collar, pulling him eye-to-eye with him. "Where - is - CASCA?" Guts demanded between his teeth, shaking Rickert. However, it was Erica who answered, tapping Guts' shoulder lightly.

"She's over there," Erica said as she pointed to the direction of a waterfall. There Casca was, bathing fully clothed beneath the gentle flow of the cascading water, seemingly unconcerned with what she was doing or who was watching her; most unsettling was her relaxed countenance, as if events from four days ago had never occured.

"She's been acting peculiar ever since she woke up two days ago," Rickert began elaborating. "She hasn't said a word to me or - "

"Casca!" Guts called out as he pressed on Rickert's shoulder for support, ignoring the younger Hawk. He jolted toward the alcove, wobbling here and there from his injuries. Guts suddenly couldn't think of anything else, not even of the horrible events that happened four days earlier. All that he cared about was Casca, to make sure that she was safe and well.

As he approached her, Guts reached for her shoulder, at first with his severed limb, forgetting that it was no longer there. He chuckled to himself, a nervous laugh, as he recollected himself and brought up his intact arm.

"Casca..." he said gently, resting his hand on her soaked shoulder. However, the sensation caused Casca to ignite into a fit as she twisted her shoulder away from his touch, slapping his hand away with enough force that caused Guts to stumble back a few steps.

_"Don't touch me!"_ Casca screeched violently. Her eyes showed through her bangs, and what Guts saw in them hurt him more than the hate that swirled in them during their early years together. No, what was directed at Guts was not hate: it was fear. But there was also something else in Casca's depths that stabbed at Guts like a dagger, though the blow was not aimed at him.

Disgust. Shame.

"Don't!" Casca's voice wavered as she looked over her shoulders, her brow furrowed in pain as her body descended to the ground. "Don't..." Her body pooled to the ground like the water flowing into the cave, her voice reduced to nothing but sobs as she hugged herself. "Don't look at me," she said in a tiny voice, a voice that was too soprano, too innocent for her.

Guts stood there, frozen, while Rickert and Erica did not even think to intervene between the two. For the first time in so long, Guts trembled, unsure of what to do for her, trying to sort out his feelings as well as her own. Yes, Guts had saved Casca, but only from having something worse done to her. He still failed to stop Griffith, to stop him from...

What was he suppose to say to her, do for her after all of this? It had seemed so simple when Casca had comforted him when he faced his own rape, but this was completely different from his own predicament. No more than four days ago, they were reunited with a man that they trusted and loved; four days ago, he turned on them and the rest of the Hawks; four days ago, he did the unforgiveable to Casca, the woman who viewed him as her champion for strength and virtue.

Thinking in that respect, Guts grew angry, angrier than he ever had before. The wrath that he felt toward Griffith's betrayal of their friendship was nowhere near to what he was feeling about Griffith's betrayal toward Casca. _How could he have...?!_ Guts thought, clenching his remaining hand in a fist so tight that blood threatened to spill.

But Guts came out of his trance when he heard Casca's continual sobs and cries. She had never cried so much before; she never had a need to until now. Even when she had thought that she lost control of everything, on that morning by the waterfall, Casca never truly felt so crushed and destroyed. She was violated; she was humiliated; she was powerless.

Casca tried to speak again, but she was sobbing so much that she could hardly breathe. "How - how - how could he have - _Why couldn't I_ \- ?!"

Guts hesistated no longer. He just swooped down into the pool of water, not caring for his bandages as he was soaked under the flow of mountain water, and took Casca into his embrace. She flinched at his touched, tried to turn away from him, but Guts kept a steady and loose hold on her.

"Don't," Guts spoke as he cradled her. He tried to be firm and gentle, but found that his own voice was wavering. "You don't need to think about anything else. Just cry."

There were no elaborate words or speeches of comfort like she did him in his time of need; this was all that Guts could think of doing for her. So they remained there, Casca crying into his chest as Guts himself tried to hold his own tears back, the sound of trickling water echoing through the mine like Casca's soft sobs.  
  


*****

Casca fell asleep after awhile, though tears still slipped from her lids during slumber. After having changed her clothes and laying her to rest in her bed, Guts got up, turning not to look at either Rickert or Erica as he headed for the mine's entrance.

"Guts," Rickert began, "where are you going?"

Guts didn't answer when he stalled before setting foot outside of the elf mine, only turning his head slightly to reveal a single tear rolling from his right eye.

"What are you doing? Don't go out there! You're wounds are still healing! And besides," Rickert gulped, " _he's_ still out there!"

But Guts didn't care. He didn't want to care.

All he could think of doing was run.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say: I really liked writing Zodd's dialogue in here, even though I took it from a translation of volume 13. I could have added the dialogue between the God Hand after Skully saved Guts and Casca at the end of the previous chapter, but I didn't see any relevance in doing so, that I liked ending it with the face off between Guts and Femto.
> 
> This is actually the chapter in which I got inspiration from the fanfic mentioned in the notes from the previous chapter. It's not archived on AO3, but you can look it up on FF dot net. 
> 
> Anyway, I initially planned this to be a one shot, only to add another chapter after... and now it looks like it's going to be a three chapter thing. So stay tuned!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied.  
> This is going to be four chapters now.  
> Potential trigger warning in this chapter.

"You’re leaving." Casca gently lowered her spoon in her soup, a meal that she had no real appetite in. She hadn’t had the urge to eat for a while unless she really needed to. She ate more to humor everybody than for the nourishment.

"Yeah…" Guts responded slowly, sipping his soup. Erica put a lot of effort into this meal, knowing that it would be Guts’ last on their homestead. Still, it was tasteless to Guts.

He had given his decision thought for awhile. Ever since he met the Skull Knight again, learning about the existence of this dark world, he couldn’t sit idly by, not with Griffith still out there. He was ready to make a move, but the most difficult was this first one: telling her.

"Does Rickert know?" Casca asked, picking up her spoon again, but only to twiddle it between her fingers instead of plunging it back into the soup. 

"Yeah. He even said that he had some stuff prepared for me in Godo’s workshop for when I leave tomorrow."

" _Tomorrow?_ " Her voice hardly changed, but the surprise was still hidden there. Guts had never told her that he was leaving so suddenly, let alone tell her before Rickert of all people.

"It’s best to leave now. before the snows come." It wasn’t true, since snow had never stopped him from leaving before. It wasn’t even because he was afraid that his urgency to seek out Griffith would wane with months of inactivity. Guts’ eyes filled with shame as he averted his gaze from Casca, not wanting to speak the truth.

"Well… I guess there’s no stopping you…" Casca said, the words coming passively from her mouth. Her expression was calm, dull as it has been for the last few weeks. It was not only her emotions that were locked away, but Casca’s whole momentum. During the days, which were rapidly chilling and darkening for the approaching winter, Casca would seclude herself, acting out in peculiar ways. Some days she would stay within the safety of the mine, cradling her legs as she basked in the rare rays of lights, none of which gave her true warmth. 

Then there were days when Casca would walk Godo’s land, wayward and withdrawn. She left in a different direction each day, and her irregular behavior caused Guts to keep a close eye on her to make sure that Casca would not wander far or into trouble. There was no other need to do so other than for precaution, as Casca would always find herself at the ledge of the cliff that hung over the valley. She’d stare into the horizon for hours, her gaze unwavering as the murky clouds of autumn passed over head, the chilling breezes sweeping through from the mountains tangling her unkempt hair. She’d leave with a shawl and nothing more to protect herself from the cold, and would sit and huddle until Guts approached her to beckon her inside for protection from the cold and the coming darkness. There were times that Casca did not answer Guts’ calls, as though she wanted to stay to see the dark entities, to see what they would do, but Guts was sure it was due to her confusion, her haze.

But even in the protection of the mine, the nights were far worse, as Casca was visited by entities of a different kind. It was on more than one occasion that Guts was awakened by the sound of Casca weeping in her sleep, crying out for her fallen friends. Her dreams were not unlike his own, and Guts would have just left her be while she try to go back to normal sleep. However, that was only if she was lucky. Most of those times, her soft crying would turn into a full out struggle, Casca toiling in her sheets with sweat dampening the fabric, the look of pain and horror on her face as she plead for these phantoms to stop their assault on her.

_"Stop…. stopppp…"_

It was these times when Guts would interfere, stepping over to Casca’s bed side to try to gently stop her nightly fits, all the while having to relive a part of the pain that she was experiencing in full in her dream world.

_"Griffith…. no…. please don’t…"_

But those were not the most painful words to slip from Casca unconsciously, heard only by Guts.

_"Guts… please… save me."_

It was cruel to see this, how the most active Casca became was during these nightmares when she was reliving the worst event of her life, no one to help her there. All Guts could do for her was to wake her at the worst parts, bringing her into a trance-like state where she could hardly tell what was dream and what was reality, as Guts gently cooed that it would be okay until Casca finally found peace again. The morning after, though, she would never speak of her dreams, closing herself off from the others, from him.

But Guts could still see the signs of a spark trying to unleash itself from under her skin. Though Guts wanted nothing more than for Casca to come out and to smile, he knew it wise to not press her, as Rickert and Erica had soon discovered. Their hearts were in the right place to try and speak to Casca, to try to return her to normal, but their youthful optimism made them all the more persistent, engaging - annoying. 

Erica, being the chipper and friendly young girl that Guts had first met her as, tried her best to befriend the only other female in her proximity, but to her misfortune, Casca never responded back. There were days that Erica gave up sooner, but then there were those where she was too eager - and Casca responded with little tact one time.

_"Would you PLEASE just stop it already?!"_

Guts didn’t need to know what had transpired in the mine as he saw the young girl run up the steps with fresh tears in her eyes, Rickert following close behind her with hurt on his face. When he approached her, sitting with her knees pulled toward her chest, hand cupping half of her face to show one dull eye, Guts thought to scold her for being so harsh with Erica, but knew it was foolish to do so. Would he have not reacted the same if he was in Casca’s shoes? Still, only a slight trace of disappointment showed on Guts face as he stared at her, his expression catching the attention of Casca’s blank, black eye.

_"I’m sorry,"_  Casca had said sincerely, her frosted and tired iris lowering.  _"I just… can’t…"_

Casca hadn’t erupted since then, but everyone was sure to keep the necessary distance from her, especially Erica. Casca had tried her best to make up for her mistreatment of the poor girl, thanking her for every errand that she did for her, but did so with aloofness, avoiding being too inviting. Her behavior pattern was not entirely odd to Guts, having known her to being the proud yet introverted woman that she was, yearning to release herself to another who truly understood. However, that Casca was replaced by another form, one who had her pride savagely taken from her and that wanted to protect what little she had left to cling onto. Guts wanted to give her space, but he so dearly wanted a reaction from her, anything that would tell him that she would be a little bit okay once he had left. For her own well-being, she needed to react.

That evening, Guts was close to getting his wish. Even as they sat across from each other at the table, quietly spending this last evening away, there was a flickering of the flare, instigated at Guts’ untimely announcement of his departure, expressed by Casca’s tapping of the spoon that once spun in her hand, now beating harshly against the rim of her bowl of soup.

Too harshly, as the bowl gave way and tipped over, spilling the warm and creamy broth onto her lap.

"Shit!" Casca exclaimed to herself,  jumping away from the table and the spilled soup while pulling the soiled shift away from her skin. In her haste to keep the soup from scalding her skin, Casca had almost hoisted the shift up and over her body, but remembered that she wasn’t wearing much of anything beneath. Guts, who had jolted up from his own seat upon Casca’s accident, didn’t hesitate to remove his own shirt, walking around the table over to Casca and giving her the replacement.

Casca quickly snatched it from his hands, but was not quick to removing her own. Embarrassment filled her, not wanting Guts to see her, not after what had happened to her. She turned her head, her eyes cast away from Guts’ gaze. Seeing her reaction, Guts quickly averted his gaze away from her, turning around to give Casca privacy so she could disrobe from her soiled shift and pull on his loose-fitting shirt. He looked over his shoulder after a few moments, and once seeing that she was done, turned around fully to see Casca dressed in the shirt that was large enough to be a short cut gown for her.

"Thank you," Casca said quietly, her eyes still avoiding Guts as she gripped the hem of his shirt. Guts nodded, unsure of what to do next, as was she. He was guessing dinner was over.

Rather than standing there like a confused child, Casca scratched the back of her head, nervously laughing. “I don’t remember myself being so… clumsy.”

"It happens to the best of us," Guts responded, happy that Casca was showing an emotion other than apathy or annoyance, even if she was feigning it.

The awkwardness still lingered, so Casca decided to look up and around, maybe move to another area of the mine, away from Guts. But the first thing she saw when she looked up was Guts’ form, and now that his shirt was off, the bandages gone, Casca was able to see the full extent of his wounds. She had wanted to look away from him, but found that she couldn’t. Casca was as entranced by his body as she was the first time she had seen him like so, but this time, for different reasons. 

Her unsteady hand rose up to lightly trace the scars with her fingers, Guts allowing her to do so, relishing the fact that she went so far as to touch him. Guts was no stranger to scars, even seeing them as trophies for every battle that he fought and survived in. But those - those scars were next to nothing to what he got during that hell bath. Massive gash wounds covered older scars, grooves on his skin were formed where pieces of flesh were practically bitten out. Her fingers trembled even more as she glided them to the worst of the scars: his missing arm. The left arm that helped him swing that massive sword of his, the arm that he used to save her from despair, the arm that he held that man with for dear life during their darkest hour… It was gone.

These weren’t trophies of victory, but reminders of their loss: remembrance of that day when their comrades and friends were taken; reminder of how she and Guts were irreversibly damaged; a reminder that nothing was going to be the same again.

Casca choked a sob as she gently wrapped her hand around the vestige of Guts’ arm. He did all of this for her, but for what? He saved her, but from what fate? It still happened, that man - no, that monster - still had his way with her, took everything from her. She was worthless now, as a warrior and as a woman. And yet…

_Why?… WHY are you always bleeding for me?_ Tears streamed down her face, trickling down on Guts’ wound, a salty ointment. Guts lowered his head towards hers then, whispering to her, “These weren’t your fault.”

For the first time since the days of the aftermath, Casca allowed herself to cry into Guts, only resting her forehead on his chest. Again, Guts saw no problem with this closeness, eventually resting his remaining hand on the back of Casca’s head like how he normally did. From this position, Guts was always able to easily look down from above Casca, since he was so much taller than she. But now, she seemed much smaller than before, so helpless. His next thought was demeaning to him, an insult on Casca’s nature, but how she looked now made Guts want to protect her more, to hold her ever more closer to him.

Without fully knowing what he was doing, Guts’ hand ventured away from her head and down her back. Gentle as it was at first, in one quick movement he encircled her waist, crushing Casca’s body against his. She gasped, bringing her hands up between she and Guts’ body to cushion her, but it was no use. Casca’s body tensed as Guts’ hand curved down her hip, toward the skin of her thigh that remained exposed, yet he refrained from fully groping her there, instead just passing over her backside to encircle her waist once again from underneath the shirt.

Though her body trembled from Guts’ embrace, Casca managed to place her left hand on his right bicep, trying to coaxed his arm away from her. “Guts…” she said, her voice unsteady. At first, Casca thought that the little defiance that was in her voice stood out, as Guts loosened his hold on her. But before Casca could edge away from him, Guts nudged her, taking Casca by surprise as she was guided to the bedding, Guts kneeling after her so that she was in between his legs. Her heart raced as she backed further away from him until she came against hard, cool rock. 

As the shirt was so loose on her smaller body, barely clinging onto her one shoulder, Guts tugged at it, slipping it down to her lap. Casca urged herself to gather up the cloth and cover herself, but found that she couldn’t. She shuddered when she felt Guts’ hot breath tingle on the skin of her neck as he edged closer to her, supporting himself on his arm.

"Please…" Casca whispered, whimpering as Guts grazed his lips against her neck, trailing down her collar bone. He was suddenly upon that emblem of dread, her brand. Guts was unsure of what to do, seeing how Casca turned her head in shame at the symbol carved on her breast; he thought it best to just ignore and pass over it, instead hovering his lip over to kiss the valley in between her breasts. Casca grimaced at the familiar touch, but Guts ignored her as he moved back to her neck, kissing and suckling on her flesh.

Turning her head away as Guts continued, hotness found its way to Casca’s eyes again, unsure of what she wanted. There was a part of her that most certainly pressed her to make Guts stop, that she didn’t want this to be happening. But on the other hand, Casca wanted nothing more than to feel normal. She just wanted everything to be normal again, but after what happened to her, how could she go through with this? It wouldn’t be the same anymore, Guts wouldn’t think of her the same as when they first joined.

The kisses on her neck began to stop as Guts rose up again, and this time, Casca was prepared to be firm with Guts, to tell him to stop. As she turned to face him, to look him in the eye, fresh tears whelmed in her own when she looked at Guts. It was neither disgust nor revulsion that she saw on Guts’ face, but longing, want, need. His face was not threatening, but it was not masked with innocence either: Guts wanted her to know that he still wanted her after all of this and was willing to give her that normalcy again if she just surrendered to his burning need. 

Casca lost herself then, her eyes lowered as one tear escaped her.

_This is Guts…_  Casca thought, as confidently as she could. _I…_  want  _him to touch me…_

She let her shoulders relax as best as she could, allowing herself to sink into the bedding. She welcomed Guts’ advance, though she tried to close her lids as he neared her. But before Guts was allowed to lock lips with hers, Casca opened her eyes, and it suddenly wasn’t Guts that she saw above her. In his stead, a dark, hawk-like figure with occult blue eyes hovered over her, leaning in to take her in his talons. A memory though it was, Casca could already feel him grabbing her, kissing her, raping her all over again.

Her eyes widened, a shriek released from her throat.

“ _NOOO!_ ”

He couldn’t react in time to stop her from lashing out at him, with Casca using her nails to leave three, long scratches across his chest. Invisible at first, the marks became red and angry, little beads of blood seeping out of the flesh. The sting distracted Guts for a moment, making him lean up to slowly place his hand on the wound, blood painting the tips of his fingers. He stared at his hand, mesmerized until Casca came into his focus again, her half-naked form shaking and crying as she held herself. Guts’ eyes widened in horror at the sight, the sight that he created.

"I - I’m sorry," Guts said, shame filling his voice. "I’m - " He collapsed on the edge of the bedding, covering his face with his stained hand. Did he almost do that to her, so soon after the Eclipse? What was he thinking? He had wanted to think that he wasn’t thinking, that he was just lost in the moment. But he knew full and well of what he intended on doing, of what he wanted Casca to do with him despite her subtle protests. Guts opened his mouth to beg forgiveness again, but in an instant he felt like vomiting, so he turned his body away, ashamed to look at Casca. There was nothing he could say or do to make it up to her.

Trying to calm herself, Casca peaked her head up, seeing Guts’ pathetic and slumped form through glassy tears. Casca wanted to say something, to say that it was okay, that it would be alright and that it was just a mistake, a misunderstanding. But she knew the truth: it was not going to be that easy, because it wasn’t going to be alright, not for a very long time. She stayed curled up against the wall, as though trying to make her body as small as possible.

Dead moments passed, Casca on her corner of the bedding and Guts on his own. Guts spoke.

"Things are going to be different now." It was meant to be a question, but it didn’t come out as such.

Casca didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last part seemed like a combo of Griffith and Charlotte's scene, Guts and Casca's scene in the elf mine after the eclipse, and then the later near-rape scene between the two in the Millennium Falcon arc. I only realized it when I was finishing it, but I hope it made sense. Sure, Casca wasn't driven insane by her rape, but she would still be suffering repercussions from the trauma of the experience regardless and I hope that I captured that.
> 
> So what is going to happen between our couple!? Hopefully all will be concluded by late fall.
> 
> So as Miura-sensei always says, "'Til next time!" (ugh...)


End file.
